


Honor Through Blood

by Xizuma



Category: Dishonored (Video Games), The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xizuma/pseuds/Xizuma
Summary: "Your life has taken a turn, has it not? The Queen is dead, your King mourns in sorrow. It won’t be long until he does something… rash. Sooner or later, the last line of tolerance between your kind and those of Xadia will snap, and you... will play a pivotal role in the many days to come. I have seen many men and women's paths yet when I look at you... I see shards and fragments of different paths and roads ahead of you, and because of you, so many other paths and destinies will be changed.""I am the Outsider, and this is my Mark. There are forces in the world and beyond the world, great forces that even the most ancient of creatures do not know of, and now, these forces will serve your will. Use this new-found power, my gift to you.""Be wary, for your choices and actions will affect the outcome far greater than you can imagine. Will it end for better or worse?... that is up to you.""Know that I will be watching with great interest..."
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Honor Through Blood

Fire.

All he saw was fire.

Smouldering, the blaze consumed everything in his sight. The black smoke enraptured and twirled around him. Roaring, flickering flames, eager, hungry, rampaging, sweeping, cinders, ashes, sparks, engulf, explode, devour, thick acrid smell of the smoke, enormous appetite of the flames, consumed in flames, terrible destruction, like a great famished beast devouring everything in its path and belching out black smoke.

_‘Where… where am I?’_

He laid atop solid ground, the rubble surrounding him. The walls had long since crumbled and in their place stood thick beams of wood, blackened and charred from where the flames danced within. Black dust hung within the air and invaded his lungs. He could feel the dirt beneath his ragged and dirty clothes, the grime on his exposed limbs felt warm as the flames tried to reach him.

He craned his head ever so slightly. 

Around him, the little village burned and colored the sky a vibrant orange color as smoke rose high. All of it, constructs of cobblestone and wood burned in a sea of red, yellow and orange and the cries of the people echoed into the night. The young boy watched as the flames ripped their way through the houses surrounding him, tendrils of smoke reaching desperately into the sky, as if trying to escape the blazing inferno below.

His arms ached. No matter how he tried to move them, they were impossibly numb. Someone could cut them off and he wouldn’t feel a thing. He was exhausted. The smoke filled his lungs forcefully, overwhelming his senses. The pain was dull, yet it hurt all the same.

_‘Who am I?’_

The screams tore through him like a great shard of glass. Everywhere around him, he heard cries that pierced the howling wind that desperately tried to soothe the flames. His eyes landed on one man with blank eyes that stared into nothing. His other half, pinned down within a wall of wood that slowly burnt.

Further off, he could see with bleary eyes the sight of a woman that laid down, clutching her child. Her arms looked relaxed, unmoving. Both mother and child’s deathly pale skin told him that despite their mostly unharmed appearance, they had not escaped the touch of death.

More and more he caught sight of them.

A man who tried to run away, but was caught by a charred beam.

A young boy who looked near his age had perished, crying out for a savior that would never come.

An old man who had tried to protect his dog. The one companion and family that stayed with him until the very end.

His fingers twitched as he stared into the lighted sky with half-lidded eyes.

Empty.

He felt empty.

It was like a void. A dark void. A never ending dark void that consumes everything in its path. Empty. Nothing to subside your hollow soul that creeps in the shadows, and seizes your being, grasping it like a lifeline. No guilt, sadness, emptiness - emotion.

He tried to remember.

Desperately he racked his mind for remembrance. A face, a name, a place… yet nothing comes to the forefront. Where there should be memories was blank space - a void. Nothing.

Emptiness.

Everything. He couldn’t recall anything.

His past, his entire personality… his name, values and dreams were scorched down to a blank slate. Burnt to the ground as if it were nothing and crisped like a piece of paper.

It burnt down just as the village did with it.

The smoke was getting to him now. His breaths were now laboured, raggedy, exhausted. It was too much for someone as young as him. His life was slowly slipping away from him. 

He reached his arm out to the sky. His eyes, blank as the dead that surrounded him, yet still held a fading light within, stared at the bleak and black sky with nothingness.

Then he heard the shouts.

The thundering of hooves split the sounds of splintering wood and cackling flames as armored men with steel swords and horses galloped through the bleak landscape in urgency.

The clanking of steel against dirt and stone and the rustling of metal hit his ears as more shouts of an authoritative voice yelled over the fires.

For what felt like an eternity, the fire roared stronger as it tried to reach him. He didn’t hold up for hope, no. He knew there was a good chance that within the burning mess they would mistake him as another dead body to add to the list. All around him he could see the embers and the flames licking the wood and stone eagerly. 

He closed his eyes. 

The orange glow kept getting brighter and brighter, and then-

An armored hand grasped his frail little arm.

The face of a woman entered his view. Her kind smile and gentle eyes contrasted her armored body as the golden crown atop her head gleamed within the blaze. 

“It’s going to be okay…” Her voice soothed, hushing whatever worry she assumed he had with a soft approach as she gently grasped his body. Whispering sweet assurances into his ear, lifting him up from the rubble and debris. “Everything will be okay…” 

Carefully, she made sure he was comfortable against her body. The armor she wore was warm, thanks to the fire, but he still felt how soft she carried him, afraid that he might break into pieces if she were to hold him tighter.

She walked through the rubble and flames as if it were nothing with him in her arms. As if this sight was normal to her, yet he still saw the sorrow within her eyes as she glanced at the bodies within the fire. 

Why did she feel sorrow?

Why did she feel responsible for their deaths?

Despite her gloved hand, the action of her brushing strands of his hair away from his dirty face felt nice.

She was nice.

_‘I don’t deserve this.’_

* * *

He opened his eyes once more.

His body rose up and down without command, the familiar sounds of galloping reaching his ears made him realize he was riding a horse. His eyes slowly came to focus, staring at the brown mane of the stallion that he had mounted without his knowledge. 

He leaned back, only for his body to hit a wall of steel.

“Are you awake, little one?” A gentle voice, _her_ voice asked him. The nice woman from before looked down at him with a small smile on her face. She softly grasped his shoulder, the other on the reigns of her mount as she spoke to him. 

Beside the horse he was on, he spotted a man riding alongside with them. His dark complexion, and his armor and tunic gave him the same aura that the woman who saved him had, especially because of the same crown the two of them wore. The man turned to look at him, and gave him a friendly smile.

He looked around him. Men and women in similar armor surrounded him and the woman in a formation. Some of them were riding horses while others walked. They were carting some of their wounded as well. 

He heard the whispers and murmurs amongst them. What little he caught left him confused. 

_“...Village was near the border…”_ One man talked to his fellow companion beside him.

_“Must have thought they were an easy target…”_ The other replied lowly so only the two could hear. 

_“...sending a message to us humans…”_

_“...veryone… dead... no one… left…”_

_“Only survivor…”_

_“Damn Elves!”_ A woman seethed in anger.

He only grew more confused as they talked, it left him asking for more. However he settled on questioning his savior instead.

“Where are we going?” He asked, only now realizing how low and how small his voice sounded. How he seemed to quiver and waver.

The woman noticed this, and rubbed his shoulder assuringly. 

“Somewhere safe.” She said with a smile. “So we can patch you up. You’ve been in a very rough time, we’ll make sure to help you.” 

The woman wavered only for a moment. Her smile was replaced by a grimace, only for it to be quickly covered up.

He gazed into eyes, seeing the remorse and the guilt within.

But he didn’t dare ask why.

“Okay…” Was his only reply.

“Come here, little one.” The man gave him a gentle smile, holding out his arms. His savior let go of the regins of her horse and safely brought him over to the dark man. The boy remained silent, allowing the transfer.

“We’ll ride together.” The man told him.

“My name is Sarai.” The kind woman introduced herself, then gestured to the man beside her. “And this is my husband, Harrow. Can I know your name?” She asked.

His breathing hitched, and a dull ache rang within his mind and his heart. Such a simple question, yet he couldn’t even answer.

“I…”

Nothing.

Only fire.

Screams.

Death.

Emptiness.

**Void**.

“I… don’t remember…” 

The woman-Sarai-gained a look of surprise that turned to remorse and sorrow. “I’m so sorry…” She said, her voice full of guilt. Harrow looked stony, his face solemn, yet the hint of regret still clear in view. The young boy titled his head. Why was she apologizing? Why did Harrow look mad? If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Sarai nor Harrow had nothing to do with the fire. She was his savior even.

Sarai looked unsure what to say next. 

So Harrow spoke instead.

“Then… do you want a new name?”

The boy stayed silent for a few minutes, then he nodded.

“Hm…” Harrow rubbed his beard, Sarai’s hand still remaining on the young boy’s shoulder as a sign of comfort. “How about…

…(Forename)?”

He did not know how long he dozed off after meeting Harrow and Sarai. But as soon as he opened his eyes, he had gained sight of thick and luscious trees spread out wide. All the trees were tightly-knit, just one strand in a massive web of life. Green leaves, yellow leaves, red leaves. It was a rainbow of rich, autumnal colours. The scent of earth and water drifted through the air. It was a picture of serenity, one which would endure for many long years.

Harrow seemed to have noticed his stirring, giving a small chuckle as they followed upon a wide path that led beyond the trees and shrubbery. “Are you awake, little one?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I see, that is good.” Harrow gave a smile. “We’ll be arriving in Katolis very soon. I have two children. Callum and Ezran. I’m sure you’ll be great friends with them.” He said. 

The little boy remained silent.

Guilt still lingered over Harrow’s heart as well as sorrow and anger. Guilt, for not being able to save an innocent village completely uninvolved in the trifles between the human kingdoms and inhabitants of Xadia. Sorrow, for having to see a small boy witness a horrifying event in such a young age. If Harrow had to guess, the little boy was possibly around the same age as his son, Callum, give or take a year or so older. 

He would make sure the boy would grow to love Katolis, he would make sure he wouldn’t want for anything. Callum would love to have a new friend, the boy was a bit shy. He would be able to meet Viren’s children too.

His eyes lit up when the familiar sight of his beloved kingdom loomed over the distance. A small grin escaped as he looked down at the boy.

“We’re here.” He announced. “Welcome to Katolis.”

Structures of stone and wood made way after the passage of trees. Droves of citizens flocked to the sight of their King and his troops. All sang cheers and praise as (Forename) looked around within his spot on top of Harrow’s horse.

Harrow gave the crowd a humble smile as he waved back to his citizens as they passed them. 

Katolis Castle was the largest building the little boy had ever seen. The giant man made form of stone stood tall and proud atop the land it was situated in, towers and spires built within the wall surrounding the quarters of his saviors protected the denizens of the ancient structure from harm. His eyes caught tiny specks of armored men and women patrolling the area, a natural deep moat surrounding the royal castle with only a stone bridge to connect it back to the mainland.

The horses stopped as they entered the courtyard. From his view, he had spotted more armed men and women standing in attention. While others assisted in carrying the injured to the infirmary. One detail caught his attention when his eyes glanced to the three short figures that had also joined in welcoming back the King and Queen.

The first one was a boy around his age, albeit an inch or so shorter than him. Brown hair framed his face, and he wore a dark blue tunic along with simple dark trousers and brown shoes. Within his hands, he fiddled a rather thick book that looked fairly new. His green eyes looked at him with curiosity and slight apprehension, though (Forename) had no idea why.

The girl next to him on the other hand, bounced up and down with excitement and interest. Her short, dark hair bobbing up and down as a small grin slipped on to her face. She wore a rather fancy dark colored dress and skirt as she held on to a book with an image of a dragon on it.

The last one however, looked all but bored as compared to the previous two. Sandy blonde hair was placed upon his head as he stood next to the girl with crossed arms, slouching slightly, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Immediately, (Forename) watched Sarai dismount her steed and ran to the brown haired boy with happiness.

“Callum!” Her joyful shout echoed across the courtyard as the young boy-Callum-raced towards her and embraced the woman with a giggle as Sarai spun him around, a smile on her face. “Did you miss me?” She asked shortly after she stopped spinning him.

Callum only nodded excitedly with a similar smile on his face. 

“Callum!” King Harrow called out, walking towards them with the young boy still in his arms. Callum saw the boy had a curious glint in his eye, despite his rather indifferent and slumped posture. Callum watched him curiously as well. 

His hand twitched again, wanting to touch him. Everything about the boy in his King’s arms made him curious. His hair was rather disheveled and slightly dirty. Grime and what looked to be soot and ash clung to his face and matted all over his clothes that, in his opinion, were too messy and roughed up, along with the cuts and tears. 

His eyes though, was what made Callum inquisitive about him. His eyes… looked blank and indifferent. 

It honestly weirded out young Callum, but it made him all the more interested in drawing the young boy and adding his image to his sketchbook.

“I hope you and Ezran were good while we were away?” The King gave a small chuckle.

“Y-Yes sir. Ezran missed you.” Callum straightened his posture as he addressed the King. Harrow gave him a tender smile in return as he ruffled his hair.

“I missed you both as well.” He then knelt down, showing him the young boy. “This little one is (Forename). He is my new ward and he will be living with us from now on. I would like you to think of him as family, okay?”

From the side, Harrow caught a glimpse of Viren looking at (Forename) with a raised eyebrow, before turning his gaze to his old friend. Harrow nodded his head at him. 

They would talk about this later.

Viren inclined his head to respond to the silent message his King had given him. Turning to look at his children, he nudged them both to forward.

“Go on, introduce yourselves to our… guest.” He told them, gesturing at the direction where his King and his child were.

“Wha-But Dad! I don’t wanna!” Soren indignantly crossed his arms stubbornly as he shook his head. Claudia rolled her eyes at her brother’s whining and grabbed him by the arm as she started dragging them over to the new kid. She too, was curious as to why the King and Queen had brought a child their age with them. 

“Come on, Sor-bear! This is a good time to make a new friend! You should be welcoming to guests if you want to be a future crownguard!” Claudia told him. Soren did his best to escape his little sister’s grip.

“Oh yeah?! As a future crownguard, I’ll outrank you! So you should give me respect!” Soren stuck his tongue out at her for good measure as he tore his arm away from Claudia.

His sister responded by yanking his tongue with her fingers with a smirk.

“Ah! Cold fingers!”

Callum extended his arm towards (Forename). “Hi…” The young boy said quietly, as if nervous a loud noise was going to scare him. “I’m Callum.”

(Forename) blinked after a second as he stared at the boy’s outreached hand, before looking back at him.

The Prince's eyes found (Forename)’s again, and they stared at each other. He could see under the dullness and the blank indifference within them. And Callum couldn’t help but see the confusion alongside it. It almost looked like he was… lost.

The King seemed to notice and rubbed (Forename)’s shoulder. “It’s all right, little one.” Harrow reassured him. “Callum, Sarai, Ezran, and I will make sure you’re happy. I promise you.”

“How long is he going to stay with us?” Callum wondered. He hoped it was for a while. He would love to draw tons of pictures of him!

“This is his home now, sweetie.” Sarai placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling softly. “He’s going to be with us for a long time.”

“Your mother and I will settle in for now.” Harrow said as he stood up, patting the young boy on the back. “For now, why don’t you, Soren and Claudia welcome young (Forename) to Katolis, hm?” 

“Yes sir.” Callum politely nodded as the aforementioned two joined him and (Forename) shortly after.

Harrow bid his son a smile as he turned to Viren. “I’m sure you have questions pertaining about my new ward?”

Viren nodded. “Just a few…” He said as the adults entered the castle, allowing the children on their own as the guards returned to their posts.

The King smiled. “Excellent. Escort the wounded to the infirmary and everyone relax for the day.” Harrow told everyone. Callum saw Aunt Amaya go with the wounded and he frowned.

“Is Auntie all right?” He asked his mother.

“Yes, sweetie. She just got injured a little, but she’ll be fine.” Sarai reassured her son. “Now, run along with your new friend, why don’t you go into town with him and Soren and Claudia?” She smiled.

Callum grinned as he returned to (Forename) and the others.

Claudia turned to look at him with a curious expression on her face. “What did the Queen say?”

“Mom said that we should show (Forename) around town for the rest of the day.” Callum told her. 

Soren groaned.

“But I wanted to train… don’t wanna waste my time on some kid we don’t know…” He grumbled.

Claudia nudged him with her elbow, shooting her brother a glare. “Be nice, Soren. The Queen said it’s our job to show him around.” Turning her head, she smiled at the young boy in front of her.

“Hi! My name’s Claudia.” She introduced herself, then gestured to her brother. “Please don’t mind my brother, he’s a bit of a doofus. What’s your name?” She asked, promptly ignoring the protest from her sibling.

“...(Forename).” Was all the boy said, the same indifferent and blank tone to his voice like his eyes.

Claudia beamed and grabbed the boy’s hand. “Come on! We’ll show you around Katolis! It’s fairly large, but I’m sure we’ll be able to go around the town until the afternoon! It’ll be fun!”

Without even letting the poor boy respond, the dark haired girl proceeded to drag him out of the castle, Callum and Soren in tow.

For the rest of the day, the unlikely group of children ran around town, showing the young boy everything that the great kingdom of Katolis had to offer.

* * *

“Well! Now what can I do for you youngsters?” A chuckle bellowed from the plump as he fixed his red cap atop his head. 

“We were just showing our new friend around town, Mister Barius!” Callum said with a smile as he entered the bakery along with his friends.

The bakery huddled between a merchant shop and the local poultry, both of them towering over the one storey shop. It wasn't the kind of place that did forty kinds of everything, though Mister Barius, the baker made sure to always prepare the Queen’s favorite sweets, should she ever visit.

(Forename) looked around the quaint bakery with curious eyes as Callum conversed with Barius. The various wooden tools, hanging pots and pans, along with the many vegetables and ingredients made him wonder what they were all for. The heat from the oven was nice, it gave him warmth, as did the aroma and smell from the shop that smelled of freshly baked sweets and pastries that would make one’s mouth water.

Soren nudged him a bit to get his attention. “You should definitely try Mister Barius’ Jelly Tarts! They’re amazing!” He said with a grin as he licked his lips, eyeing the aforementioned sweets with a gleam in his eye. Carefully, he reached his arm out towards the tray slowly and-

“Oh no you don’t!”

The child’s plan sadly did not come to fruition as a well placed smack to the hand left Soren to protest.

“Ow!” The blonde hissed. “I was only going to take one!” He argued.

Barius scoffed. “Sure you did. And I’m an elf in disguise.” He rolled his eyes, before turning to look at the silent newcomer staring at the sweets with a tilted head. 

“You want some, kid?” 

“Wha-Hey! How come he gets to get one!” The blonde protested.

(Forename) looked at the Baker, then back at the pastry. “I don’t have money.” 

With a laugh, Barius took a pastry off the tray. “Nonsense, Prince Callum here, told me about you. You gotta be pretty important if the King took you in. So I’ll give ya one, free of charge.” He handed it out to the quiet boy.

With the sweet now in front of him, (Forename) focused on the sweet smell that emanated from the pastry.

The aromatic fragrance overpowered every other scent that lingered in the bakery. Its delectable aroma pervaded the air and into the boy’s nose- a melange of strawberry jelly, peanut and dabs of butter. It was very tempting to grab and simply indulge in this decadent pleasure, or to merely inhale the gorgeous scent it emanated from its baked, warm depths.

Barius chuckled. “Go on. Taste it.”

“It’s really delicious!” Claudia agreed as Soren sneakily grabbed one from the other tray, much to the baker’s chagrin.

“Mission successful!” Soren laughed as he happily gobled the treat down before Barius could do anything.

“Why you brat!”

(Forename) stared at the pastry, ignoring the ruckus around him. Taking the first bite, a delightful flavor flooded his mouth, and his senses basked in its luscious taste. 

Claudia watched with interest when she noticed the silent boy’s eye grow wide in surprise.

As he munched on the sweet, his taste buds enjoyed what was probably his first meal since the fire. There was a friable crunch, tangs of zest, along with a flaky crust that was somehow both crispy and moist. The jelly filling within only enhanced the flavor that gave a sweet and rich taste that he had never felt.

He chewed as he ate more of the sweet.

_‘This is nice.’_

He wondered if he could ask the Baker if he could teach him sometime.

“How is it?” Claudia asked beside him, munching on a jelly tart of her own. Callum looked at his new friend too, curious for the quiet boy’s thoughts.

“It’s… satisfying.” Was all (Forename) said.

Claudia pouted. “You have to be more specific than that!” She said. The boy looked at her before he stared up in thought.

“Well… the scent is lingering and inviting. The first bite lets the strawberry flow into your mouth easily and you get to experience the rich taste that makes it more enjoyable with the balanced crust that surrounds it.” (Forename) detailed as he took another bite.

Barius gave a hearty laugh. “See? What did I tell ya! Katolis’ finest!” 

Soren grumbled. “Katolis’ finest wouldn’t chase an innocent boy for sampling their work…”

“You stole a whole tray the last time!”

“It was for science!”

“Science my foot!”

As the bickering continued, (Forename) continued to munch on the delectable treat.

* * *

A year had passed since he had come here.

A now eight year old (Forename) gave a hum as he looked around the cupboards within the castle kitchen. That wasn’t unusual, however. Ever since his stay within Katolis castle, the young boy had taken a good interest in cooking and had taken it up as his hobby. 

Aside from spending his time training with Soren, he spent the many months within the kitchen, learning from the servants and often helping out with the duties to ease the burdens.

He was keeping things simple today; he didn’t want to waste that much ingredients or take up most of the chef's time, though he was sure the chef wanted him here.

He was a natural cook, Queen Sarai insisted

The young boy didn’t know why or how he was more adept in the culinary arts than his peers, but what he did know was that Queen Sarai was bad at very little things…

Cooking was one of them.

(Forename) had asked Borin, one of the chefs within the castle, to help him with the trickier steps. It wasn’t the first time he needed help, if it was his way then the young boy didn’t need any help at all, but Sarai and Harrow asked him to go to Borin for any task they deemed too dangerous for a child. 

Most of the meal prep was done, at this point. He had insisted on doing most of the work after that point, but the chef insisted on helping, which (Forename) couldn’t deny.

So fixated on his work was the young boy, that he didn’t notice the door to the kitchen open, until he felt the chef’s posture stiffening to his right.

“Your majesty.” The chef bows respectfully. 

As soon as Borin uttered those words, (Forename) quickly put down the knife he held and turned around to greet his king. 

“Your majesty.” He politely bows before Harrow as he sets his arms behind him. Having practiced this many times after Opeli had taught him the basic etiquette expected of a king’s ward.

In contrast to the boy’s formality, King Harrow looked almost casual. His golden crown was absent from his head, allowing his locks to spill freely over his shoulders. His normal red and golden tunic was gone in favor of a more plain shirt and trousers. 

He had started forward a bit when (Forename) bowed to him.

“(Forename),” Harrow started. “You do know that you don’t need to—” The King began, glancing off to the side hesitantly. “No matter. Viren told me that he saw you heading down here earlier, and I was curious.”

The child didn’t know what to call his relationship with the King. He was his ward, technically making him his son and thus, part of the royal family. Because of this Harrow and Sarai, and to an extent Callum, had taken it up as their mission to make him feel welcome within their family. It warmed his heart. These people, who were once just strangers to him, who he only was introduced to just a year ago, were trying their best to make him feel at home after what had happened to him.

He was still confused, lost, even. All he was, his past, was wiped off completely within the flames. And here were these people trying to pick up the pieces to help him. Sarai and Harrow did their best to fill that parental role he had not received, worrying over him and doting over him like any mother and father would. Callum, despite being awkward about it, also remained by his side, they helped each other. Ezran, while still being only two years old, was a bundle of joy he couldn’t say no to.

While he didn’t know exactly how to respond to that, he was grateful nonetheless.

_‘I don’t deserve this.’_

King Harrow took a step forward, movements tentative, like he was not sure how his ward would respond to the closer proximity.

(Forename) tilted his head, glancing between King Harrow and the table.

“May I sit, your majesty?”

Harrow’s face turned to surprise. “Oh! (Forename), you… you don’t need to ask permission to sit in my presence.” He chuckled as he looked at the chef. “That goes for you too, Borin,”

The young boy nodded silently. His lessons on royal etiquette had stressed that one could not sit in the presence of a king unless granted permission. Though he supposed this was one way of granting permission.

“May I watch?” King Harrow asked, gesturing to the table.

(Forename) paused, before he nodded.

Returning to his cooking, the young boy slices up the fish in quick succession. Making sure he had evenly cut the meat to the appropriate proportion as he prepared the scallions in another cutting board.

Taking the wine, he poured a portion into a bowl before setting it down as he reached up for a cupboard and sprinkled some spice mixture within the bowl of wine.

Just as he finished marinating the salmon, the sound of footsteps behind his back alerted the child’s to King Harrow approaching the table, leaning forward to examine his work.

“What are you making?” He asked.

“Smoked Salmon.” (Forename) replied as he prepared the baking dish. “I never got around to making seafood before, so it’s my first time making this type of food.”

“Hm. You’re quite good at this.” Harrow commented, impressed, as he watched over his ward’s preparations. 

The two stayed silent as the young boy made quick work of the meat as the oven heated up.

“Do you need some help?” Harrow asked.

(Forename) shook his head. “It’s no worry, your majesty. I don’t wish to inconvenience yourself.” The young boy stated.

“Oh, it’s no inconvenience.” The King chuckled as he rolled up his sleeves. “Well then, what do I do?”  
  


“Hm.” (Forename) tapped his chin as he thought, not noticing the small smile Harrow’s face adorned as he did. “Well, you could start making the Cameline Sauce.”

“Ah, that I know.” Harrow nodded as he started looking for the ingredients for said sauce. 

Silence resumed once more as both King and ward focused on their tasks diligently. Occasionally, Harrow sneaked a glance at (Forename), a smile on his face. Thinking back on the soot covered boy his wife had saved over a year ago to the boy now made his heart glow with joy. Like Callum, even if they weren’t related by blood, Harrow loved his boys all the same. 

After an indeterminate amount of time working side by side, Harrow set aside the freshly made sauce with a proud smile on his face as he asked. “How do you cook these?”

“You bake them,” A familiar and masculine voice from the doorway, chuckeld, cheery and kind. Which was quickly followed by a much sterner, “Also, King Harrow, I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

“General Amaya, Commander Gren.” (Forename) greeted politely, briefly stopping his work.

Standing in the doorway, Amaya gave a smile as Gren chuckled at her side.

“This isn’t training, (Forename), please, no formalities.” Gren translated for Amaya. “But is that salmon I see? My original reason for coming here suddenly just got a lot less important.”

“Are you sure?” King Harrow raised an eyebrow. “If it’s urgent…”

The young boy glanced at his technical aunt. He noticed her loose posture. There was nothing seriously wrong, then. Amaya rarely looked relaxed, even when everything was fine, so if she was comfortable now then there was probably nothing much to be worried about.

“It isn’t,” She signed. “We can talk about it tomorrow in the morning. For now, do you mind if the two of us join you?”

(Forename) glanced to King Harrow for permission, and the man nodded. 

“Of course,” He smiled. “Please, join us.”

Amaya strided over, Gren following along behind her. As soon as Amaya overheard about (Forename)’s interest in fighting, she had often stopped by to help her adopted nephew with various forms, ranging from self-defense, and sword fighting. She had noted his potential in combat and had taken it up to help him reach that, should he ever want to serve in Katolis’ military.

“Well, well, well…” Another voice in the doorway called. “Having dinner without me? I’m hurt.”

Entering the kitchen Sarai had an amused smile on her face as she carefully held the now two-year-old Ezran in her arms as Cullum followed her a second later.

“Darling,” King Harrow says fondly. 

“Your majesty.” (Forename) bowed, before looking at Callum. “I thought you said you were going to stall her?” He asked his brother.

Callum huffed. “I tried okay!”

She arches a dark, elegant brow at him. She, like Harrow, is dressed comfortably, having changed out of her armor for the evening. Ezran is asleep in her arms, his chubby two-year-old cheek resting against the curve of her neck.

“Well,” she says smartly, “I’m offended that my husband didn’t tell me that my entire family decided to disappear and hang out without inviting me.”

“How did you find out?” (Forename) tilted his head curiously.

Sarai stifled her giggle at the young child. Despite how serious the boy took himself, he was still a child at heart, she was relieved there was still some of that innocence within.

“Well, as far as I can tell, Viren saw you coming down here and told my husband. My husband came down here and a couple of the manservants saw him, and they told Amaya and Gren, who were then seen by Claudia and Soren, who mentioned it to one of my lieutenants, who mentioned it to me.”

“This is why I hate the castle,” Amaya gave a small huff. “Gossip moves too fast. Gren and I just got here.”

Sarai laughed. “Be fair, Amaya,” She spoke, “But when you have the entire royal family slowly migrating to one room, people are going to notice. But I’m getting off topic here—Callum, (Forename)! I can’t believe that you didn’t invite me! You know I love (Forename)’s cooking!”

Callum crossed his arms. “That was supposed to be a surprise!” He grumbled.

“You were supposed to stall.”

“She was too fast, (Forename)!”

Sarai tilted her head to the side, smiling. “Really?” She chuckled. Shifting Ezran’s weight on her hip so she could hold him with just one hand, she extended a hand to Callum. 

“Okay, that’s actually pretty cute. Come here and let me give you a hug.”

She squeezed him tight as she walked up to (Forename) and planted a kiss on his head. “Sorry for ruining your surprise, kiddos.”

(Forename) froze for a second as his face went pink, not expecting a kiss, before he continued cooking, lowering his head a little. Ignoring Sarai’s muffled giggle behind him.

“The surprise is ruined,” he says playfully, “but perhaps you might still care to join us?”

“Ah,” The Queen smiled, brushing past her husband to deposit Callum back into his chair and Ezran into Gren’s lap, making the commander light up immediately. “You know, I do think I will!”

“Ugh,” Callum groaned overdramatically, as his mom gasped in mock offense.

“Enough from you, little guy,” She leans over, ruffling his hair. “It’s not like you’re any better than I am.”

“I admit that.” Callum said. “(Forename)’s better than both of us.”

“He is,” Amaya agreed.

“Well, that we can all agree on.” Sarai conceded. “But my cooking isn’t that bad!”

“Your... cooking is lovely darling,” Harrow said unconvincingly. Upon hearing the weakness of his own voice, however, he winced. “I mean,” The King started, “There is always room for... improvement.”

Sarai groaned. “Can I trust none of you? Gren?”

Gren freezed in the middle of poking one of Ezran’s chubby cheeks. He chose to remain silent, but the panicked grimace on his face was enough of an answer.

The mother pouted before she turned to her last hope. “(Forename)? Do you think I’m a bad cook?”

“...”

“Hmph.” The Queen crossed her arms indignantly. “Everyone’s a critic.”

“You nearly blew up the kitchen once, my dear.”

“That was one of Viren’s spells and you know it!”

(Forename) looked around him. He still had his doubts, his insecurities, but he was thankful that the person who pulled him out of that blazing heat was someone he could rely on, someone he would trust. It was a long year, and it was difficult to adjust, but seeing them now, it made him smile.

This was family.

* * *

And who knew that family could be easily torn apart?

It was unexpected, unpredicted. And it hit all of them, struck them to the core. King Harrow was sullen, grief stricken as Callum cried for the mother that stuck by him through thick and thin. Ezran was too young to understand, how could he? The boy was only three-years-old. The whole kingdom mourned after the news of the Queen’s demise.

Death wasn't kind. (Forename) knew that. It snatched where it could, taking people who were far too young, far too good. It didn't pretend to care, it didn't pretend to distinguish. The hooded vale of death had hung over the world for a long time, always threatening. It had never touched him quite so close, not even when he laid within the rubble and fire. Death had ripped away a part of him, the part of him that was most loved.

He stared up at the statue, her form and her likeness forever created as a symbol of hope, never minding the rain that continuously hit his already soaked face and body. Rain mingle on his face, tracks blending into the fresh sky-fallen trickles. 

Out of everyone, why her?

He shuffled his feet, setting his back against the freshly made statue and slid down as he held his feet together. He lowered his head.

And for the first time in years. _He wept_.

The tears burst forth like water from a waterfall, spilling down his face. He felt the muscles of his chin tremble like the small child he was. His walls, the walls that hold him up, make him strong just... collapse. Moment by moment, they fall. Brick by brick, it came tumbling down. As much as he tried to hold it in, the pain came out like an uproar from his throat in the form of a silent scream.

He had snuck out of the castle during the afternoon. It was already nighttime. By now he was sure the King must have sent for Amaya to track him down. He didn’t care. He just wanted to be alone.

At least, he thought he was alone.

**_“Interesting…”_ **

He didn’t bother to look up. Rather, he didn’t want to. He just wanted that, whoever was talking to him would leave.

Yet he still looked anyway.

The first thing he noticed was the inky blackness.

Pools of jet black was what was supposed to be eyes. There were no pupils at all, just neverending darkness, that twist and turn around like it had a life of its own.

His appearance aside from the eyes were… normal. A dark brown jacket covering a white collared shirt within his chest as his grey trousers went down and tucked in by black boots.

He just stood there, in front of him. The darkness coiling and twisting around him uneverned him greatly. As if the shadows obey his every command.

**_"Your life has taken a turn, has it not?”_** He said. That was another thing (Forename) had noticed. The man’s voice. A monotone, yet strangely… unusual, raspy, yet smooth and disturbing to a degree that made his hair stand up.

**_“The Queen is dead, your King mourns in sorrow. It won’t be long until he does something… rash.”_** He said.

**_“Sooner or later, the last line of tolerance between your kind and those of Xadia will snap, and you... will play a pivotal role in the many days to come, (Forename).”_ **

“How do you know my name?”

**“** **_Same way I know your king’s name, and your brothers, Claudia, Soren… the same way I know that you mourn the woman you saw as your mother.”_ **The man gave a chuckle.

(Forename) didn’t know what to do. His eyes went from side to side, yet his body did not move. “What… what do you want from me?”

**_“You… interest me, (Forename). I have seen many men and women's paths yet when I look at you... I see shards and fragments of different paths and roads ahead of you, and because of you, so many other paths and destinies will be changed."_ **He gave an uneverving smile.

Before the child could even blink or say anything, searing pain burned into his left hand. He gave a small scream as he grabbed it. It felt as if someone had taken a branding iron and pressed it to the back of his hand. In the face of such pain the young boy did the only thing he could think to do, curl into the fetal position and clutch his burning hand.

Emblazed on his hand was a series of black markings made up some sort of intricate symbol on his hand. 

The mysterious man chuckled.

**_"I am the Outsider, and this is my Mark. There are forces in the world and beyond the world, great forces that even the most ancient of creatures do not know of, and now, these forces will serve your will. Use this new-found power, my gift to you."_ **

And within a blink of an eye, he was gone. Leaving (Forename) to look out into the raining sky with fear, and wonder.

**_"Be wary, for your choices and actions will affect the outcome far greater than you can imagine. Will it end for better or worse?... that is up to you."_ **

**_"Know that I will be watching with great interest..."_ **


End file.
